What A Difference A Date Makes
by mysticmelodies1
Summary: After the death of her estranged husband, M decides to get back into the dating game. James takes it upon himself to get involved, so she turns to him for advice, unsure if she still has what it takes. To her surprise, she meets a man who ticks all the boxes. He should be Mr. Right. But something still feels wrong. She doesn't know why, but there's a strange sense of deja vu...


Olivia yanked her scarf off her right shoulder, quickly folding it in frustration and rooting through her purse for the key to her flat. She couldn't believe she'd sat down with that man for two solid hours. She was tempted on more than one occasion to excuse herself to the ladies and leave him sitting there, whittering on about cricket or whatever the hell else he was talking about. She'd stopped paying attention around thirty minutes in. The only thing that stopped her from leaving was that he was a genuinely nice man. He was courteous and a bit shy, which she found endearing, but dear gods… if she wanted to be bored to that degree, she could have stayed at the office and sorted through the mile-high stack of paperwork on her desk. Even the three martinis she'd ordered over the course of the evening did nothing to make him any more interesting.

She finally found her key and burst through the door of her flat, wanting nothing more than a large Scotch and her bed.

What she found was James sitting in her armchair, which he knew was off-limits, already halfway through a glass of the coveted drink, with his tie loosened and his feet resting on the edge of the table.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" she stormed over and snatched the glass from his hand, not waiting for his answer before chugging the rest of its contents.

"Waiting for you," he answered, seemingly not fazed by her actions. "Date didn't go too well, I take it?"

Her eyes cut to him. "How did you know about that?"

"I know about a lot of things," he replied coolly. "So… what happened?"

"I'm not discussing it." She threw her scarf down on the sofa and walked briskly over to the sink to dispose of the glass.

"That bad?"

"What part of 'not discussing it' didn't get through to you?!"

James smirked. "Too bad. He seemed like a nice man. Even though he'd bore the spit out of a sloth."

She whipped round again to find him still sitting, but with a smug grin on his face. He was enjoying this, the cheeky bastard.

"How many times have I told you not to follow me?"

"I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"It was a date, Bond. I wasn't tailing a mob boss."

"Still… never know what people are likely to do these days. Never hurts to be careful."

Olivia stared at him for a moment before replying. "I appreciate your concern, 007, but you know full well my bodyguard is always nearby and should the need arise, I think I can protect myself against a man in his sixties."

"Ooh. Sixties. Becoming a bit of a cougar, are we, M?"

Her eyes narrowed. "This is not the time to test me, 007."

James stood and held his hands up in surrender. That was two '007's in a row. Best not push it too far.

"I apologize, ma'am. I wasn't trying to invade your privacy, but after…" he trailed off, trying to stop himself remembering how terrified he'd been after she'd taken a stray bullet two months prior. "In light of recent events, I wanted to make sure that you were indeed safe."

Olivia's temper waned seeing the genuine concern in his eyes.

Luckily for James, she hadn't figured out that the real reason he'd been following her was because he was jealous of her being with other men.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, James."

He was somewhat relieved to hear her use his first name, though the last time he heard it, she was lying in a hospital bed recovering from a bullet wound. This wasn't her usual irritation with him. She was really upset.

"It's just that I haven't had a successful date since I started, and I'm beginning to think I should just forget the whole thing and…" she sighed again, kicking off her shoes and leaving them where they fell. "It doesn't matter. It isn't the end of the world."

"I didn't know it mattered so much to you," he said quietly. "I mean, I've always seen you as someone very independent."

"I am. That doesn't mean I dislike having a bit of company."

She walked around to sit on the sofa, completely forgetting the scotch she's promised herself.

Her eyes turned up to James, who just stood there looking concerned and somewhat confused.

"Sit down, James. The last thing I want right now is to strain my neck trying to have a conversation."

He carefully sat back down in the armchair, though he didn't make himself as comfortable as he did upon arrival. M almost never talked to him outside of business matters, and he wasn't entirely sure what to make of the fact that she not only hadn't thrown him out yet, but was inviting him to talk about such a personal matter.

"It's been six months. My marriage wasn't ideal. Far from it, but I tried to allow for an appropriate period of mourning." She clenched her jaw. "And I know to all outward appearances, it may look like I'm moving on rather quickly, but the truth is, our marriage was finished long before he died. I only stayed put all those years because of Six."

James frowned. "Ma'am?"

"Come on, James. Ever since I became M, they've been looking for any reason they could find to declare me unfit for the position. I can only imagine what they would have drummed up had I divorced him. 'She can't hold a marriage together, how can we expect her to hold together a country?'…bastards," she ran a hand through her hair, slightly ruffling the cropped cut she favored. "God only knows why he stayed. Probably something to do with leaving well enough alone…"

"That may not be true, M. I'm sure he had his reasons," James offered. "I mean, nobody stays put for that long without some solid reason why."

She scoffed. "His reason was that there was nowhere else to go. You don't find a huge range of offers pouring in at our time of life. And starting over at his age, or indeed mine, would have been foolish."

"With respect, ma'am, I don't think it's ever too late to start again."

"You still have youth on your side. I doubt you'll feel the same way when you get to be my age."

"You're not that old."

Olivia was shocked at the speed of his response, but she tried not to let it show.

"That's kind of you to say, James. Untrue, but kind."

It was James' turn to sigh. He hated it when she thought of herself as an old woman. She was certainly older, but it wasn't like she was in a home knitting jumpers for the grandchildren. She was most powerful woman in the country. This wasn't like her.

"M…" he paused, taking the time to choose his words carefully. "It's alright to want someone in your life. I know everyone at Six makes you out to be some sort of machine, but you're not. And it's alright to feel frustrated after a date with a snoozer. But I don't think you should count yourself out just because you happen to be older now. So, things didn't work out with your husband. You're not dead yet. There's still time for you to find someone you really like."

By this point, she was completely astonished, and did nothing to attempt to hide it. She'd never seen James get this sentimental over anyone, much less her. She wasn't sure how to respond.

James could see her expression, but was unsure of how to read it, so for his own safety, he tried to amend his previous statement before making his excuses to leave.

"I don't mean to get too personal, M. But you're a wonderful woman and you've got a lot going for you, no matter your age, and I'd hate to see you give up," he cut himself off there when he realized he was about to start rambling again and spill his own secret. "Just… hang in there. You'll find someone. And when you do, he'll be the luckiest man on earth."

He gave her a small smile and stood slowly, readjusting his tie as he walked to the door.

"James," she called after him.

He turned back to look at her. "Ma'am?"

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Any time, ma'am," James smiled back at her and hastily left before he said something else to give himself away.

He closed the door behind him and quietly leaned his head against the cold wooden exterior. It was covered with wood so it wouldn't stand out against the other doors in the building, but he knew the inside was solid steel, equipped with several security mechanisms for her safety should she need to activate them. In fact, the whole flat was constructed much the same way. Her entire life was safe guarded and double bolted and goodness knows what else. She had a bodyguard that followed her around all hours of the day and two were posted near her flat at night. One near the elevator doors downstairs, whose job was to escort visitors to the top floors, and another in the flat next to hers for added security. She also had a driver on-call, stationed in the same building, who could start a car remotely and drive her to safety should she need to escape.

He sighed.

He knew he couldn't keep up the act about following her for her safety. She had every possible security measure in place, as she had pointed out many times before, and sooner or later she was bound to ask the question. Of course James also couldn't tell her that he didn't trust anyone else to do the job right, no matter how well they'd been trained, because that would lead to the conversation he'd been dreading for years. It seemed no matter what he did, every move he made led him one step closer to having to tell her the truth. And while he hated having to keep it such a secret, he knew telling her would ruin everything. He'd thus far been able to pass it off as his usual flirtatious banter, but he knew sooner or later he would slip and say something he couldn't take back.

He only wished he had more control when it came to her. He tried to stop himself. He tried to keep his distance, but it never worked. He wanted to call it duty or loyalty or any number of things, but at the end of the day, there was only one word for it.

Love.

And that was the one thing in his life, save M, that he couldn't control.

Olivia pressed her palm against the door and gently touched her forehead to the wood.

She had no idea when James had grown to be so sentimental, especially concerning her. He was usually the first to give her a headache. But she had noticed he seemed to be showing a greater sense of care toward her over the past few months.

He stood dutifully beside her at her husband's funeral and escorted her home afterward. She wanted to tell him that she didn't need much comforting as she and her husband hadn't been particularly close for over seven years. Though, she knew of the reputation she had in the office as being cold and emotionless, so she played the part of the grieving widow as best she could.

James was the only person who didn't fully buy into it.

He had offered to talk to her about it, but she declined, not feeling very comfortable speaking about that part of her life with her agent.

But now, James spoke to her with a much more sensitive tone. He spoke to her like a friend.

Well… she supposed after all the times he'd broken into her flat, their relationship went a bit further than simply agent and M. She wasn't sure if she could go so far as to call him a friend, but they'd certainly shared a very personal moment just then, and it wasn't just because he wanted something out of her. She could tell he honestly cared about her wellbeing. It wasn't a side of him she saw very often, but when she did, it was quite nice.

She still wasn't sure what label best fit their current arrangement, but she decided that James may just be someone she could confide in.

* * *

CH. 2

* * *

The next day went by in a blur for James. He'd been assigned to paperwork as punishment for tailing M. He supposed it was fair. She made it a point to keep her dates a secret. The only other person who knew, outside of her bodyguards and driver, was Eve, and that was only because she'd intercepted a present from one of M's failed suitors.

The end of the day, however, seemed to go by in slow motion.

He was summoned to M's office for the second time that week.

"What did you do this time?" Eve asked.

"I… I honestly don't know," James replied, the look of confusion written clearly across his face.

"Well," Eve smiled. "Good luck."

James entered M's office hesitantly, and found her in the process of touching up her makeup. More specifically, she was reapplying her lipstick in a deeper shade of red that made him want to rush across the room and kiss her.

"Ah," M capped her lipstick and threw it in one of the drawers at the top of her desk. "You're here."

James declined his head just slightly. "Ma'am."

"First of all, I wanted to thank you for what you said yesterday evening," she smiled. "And I'm going to take your advice and try again."

James smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Glad I could help," he replied. Which he was. He was thrilled that he could help her through a vulnerable moment, but it also meant that she was going on another date with another man that wasn't him.

"In fact, I'm meeting someone in a couple of hours," M said, checking the clock. "I hadn't intended to stay this late, but I had to take a phone call from the PM and, as you know, he likes to hear himself talk." James snorted. "I did have shopping to do, but I suppose it can wait until tomorrow."

"Anything I can help with?"

"Well, there is something. I probably shouldn't ask, but…" she walked around to the front of her desk. "I need your help."

"What with?" he asked.

"Dating," she said, a bit more nervous now. "I mean, I do have the general concept, but now that I'm getting back into things, I realize I may be a bit… cold. Possibly." She sighed. "What I mean is, it's difficult to leave M at the office."

She stepped closer to him and sat down on the chair beside him.

"The man I'm meeting tonight… Douglas. He's a lawyer. Very accomplished. Handsome," she smiled bashfully. "He's a good man. We get on really well. It's just…" she was wringing her hands now.

"You're worried about pushing him away," James said quietly.

M nodded. "With the way all the other evenings have gone and me meeting him after a day in the office… Well I'm not known for my patience, am I?" She sighed. "You've done this sort of thing before. How do you switch off the agent and just be James?"

"I don't really," he answered. "I mean, I try to. But once it's been drummed into you, it never really leaves. Not completely."

"Helpful."

"Look, M. If you really like him, it'll come naturally. You'll be so caught up in your date, M will probably get pushed to the back of your mind. You'll just be… you."

"Do you really think so?" She looked into his eyes now. "I mean, is it that way for you?"

James nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

M smiled. "Alright. I'll try. Thank you, James."

"My pleasure, ma'am," he gave a half smile and watched as she gathered her things to leave.

"Do you know, this is the first meeting I'm looking forward to." She lifted her coat off the back of her chair. "It's only for a short time, thankfully. Our first proper date," she paused. Using that word still felt odd. "…that won't be until next week." She picked up her purse and began heading for the door. "I've pulled out my old paralegal cover. A week should be enough time to brush up, but I do hate waiting."

James chuckled. "You're overthinking it. Try not to put so much weight on it right now."

"I am trying to relax, but you know how I am." She paused, glancing back at James over her shoulder. "Not a word from you."

James pretended to zip his lips.

M snorted. "You know… in a lot of ways he reminds me of you," she mused as she left her office. "Minus the headaches, of course."

James stopped cold.

M kept walking, not noticing that he'd stopped. He heard her say goodbye to Eve and listened as her heels clicked down the corridor toward the elevators.

Her last statement resonated in his head.

Her loverboy lawyer reminded her of him.

And she still wanted to see him.

That was good, wasn't it?

That meant that he wasn't as big a pain as she let on. There must have been some qualities of his that she liked, and if she liked them in lawyer boy, then there was no reason why she couldn't feel the same way about him. It was only a matter of shifting her focus… wasn't it?

The gears in James' brain were really turning now.

If this man was really that similar to him, maybe he did stand a chance. It wouldn't be easy, of course, convincing her to stop seeing the lawyer. She was obviously keen on him. But if this man really reminded her that much of him… and he could somehow make her see the link more clearly… perhaps he could convince her to turn her sights to the original copy, and not James 2.0.

"It could work," he muttered aloud.

He'd stick to desk duty until she relieved him. He'd make sure he was on his best behavior in the office. He'd do everything he could to make sure he won.

He walked out of her office smiling to himself.

Maybe, just maybe, mission impossible wasn't as impossible as it seemed.

* * *

CH. 3

* * *

James found himself pacing back and forth in her flat, torn between keeping his promise that he wouldn't tail her anymore and wanting to have a look at this 'Douglas' lawyer who had seemingly won over his Olivia.

He shook his head. She wasn't his. And he wasn't hers.

And with the way things were going with this lawyer of hers, neither of those things were about to change.

The night was finally upon them. M had left to meet her newest suitor for their first proper date well over two hours ago and as more time passed, James found himself getting increasingly restless. James could see she had a slight spring in her step that day. It was only a slight difference. Nothing the others would have noticed, but James could tell. He'd taken enough note of her over the years to pick up her subtle changes in body language.

She certainly wasn't as short fused as she usually was. In fact, she was rather calm considering how nervous she had been about everything before.

She had let him into her flat before she left, knowing full well he would have been there anyway when she returned, so she saved him the effort of having to bypass the security.

"Well… here goes," she said, taking a deep breath and walking briskly out the door, leaving James to stew all by himself.

He kept checking the clock every few minutes, hoping he would soon hear the soft click of the locks as she came through the door. But it had been over two hours now, nearing three, and she still wasn't home.

He just barely registered a slight stabbing pain in the palm of his hand and he looked down to find a small trickle of blood coming from his unconsciously clenched fist. He had been so caught up in the thought of what lawyer boy and M might have gotten up to, he hadn't noticed his nails digging into his own palm.

He found a paper towel near the sink and cleaned his palm haphazardly before collecting the scant few items he'd brought with him to busy himself.

He needed to leave now. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing her come through the door with smudged lipstick or slightly disheveled clothing. He didn't want to hear about how lovely her evening was with another man. All he wanted now was to drink until he forgot she'd ever gone on the bloody date to begin with. But he knew he needed to do that at his own flat. If he drank all of M's scotch, she really would have his head.

He double checked the room to be sure everything was left as it should be before quietly making his escape into the night.

Olivia took the lift up to her flat, her mind still in a sort of daze over how well the evening had gone. She hardly noticed the passing time. Douglas was a wonderful man. Charming, brilliant, accomplished, great conversation… complimentary, but not to the point where it no longer felt genuine. He was everything she could want.

So why was there still a part of her that felt like something was missing?

She unlocked the door and stepped into her home, fully prepared to find James halfway through a bottle of whatever drink he could get his hands on.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that he'd tidied the place while she was away. She laughed to herself. The boredom must have really gotten to him.

"James?"

No answer.

She frowned, slipping her purse off her shoulder and onto the kitchen countertop.

"James," she called out to him again, making her way down the short hallway to knock on the bathroom door.

Still no answer.

She came back out to the sitting room to find a lone scrap of paper on the freshly polished glass coffee table.

* * *

 _'I was getting a bit tired and I didn't know if you would have company upon arrival, so I thought it best if I just went home. I hope you had a good time tonight. Sleep well.'_

* * *

Her mood sank considerably as she read his note.

She sat down on the sofa and read it over once more before placing back on the table with a quiet sigh.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was actually looking forward to finding him here, sitting in her chair with that smug grin on his face. It was her first proper, successful date in… more years than she cared to count, and the one person she was looking forward to talking about it with was James.

She snorted at the thought, rubbing a hand through her hair. How on earth did she get to a place where having a bit of girl talk with James was actually a possibility?

More to the point, why was she so disappointed at his absence?

She'd made it this far without chatting to him. She never felt the need to talk to him about anything particularly personal before. Suddenly they were closer than they'd ever been before and it was as strange as it was comfortable.

It was no secret that James was a mischief maker and she was generally the one cleaning up after whatever mess he'd created. Their relationship up until now had been rather tumultuous. But then there were the moments where it was just the two of them and James seemed… different somehow. Like at her husband's funeral. Her ceremony when she reached thirty years of service. And now this.

She thought back to each occasion and she realized that it was always James who reached out to her first, in whatever strange method he'd chosen at the time. At her husband's funeral, he'd insisted on accompanying her as part of her security team. At her commemoration ceremony, he'd practically killed himself trying to return from a mission so he wouldn't miss it. She remembered he didn't even bother to change his suit. There were singe marks in various places and she could smell the gunpowder residue on his sleeves. And ever since he found out she was back into the dating pool, he'd been following her around like some sort of protective parent.

Did he honestly think she couldn't take care of herself? She was older than she had been when she'd first taken over, but there was no need for him to shadow her as he had been.

Although…

She then began thinking back to their conversations pertaining to her suitors. James seemed somewhat uncomfortable, but he was actually quite helpful in calming her nerves. Which definitely made a change from his usual habit of giving her a migraine. She thought about how he'd spoken to her and the advice he gave. There may have been an air of protectiveness there, but more than anything, she felt… affection. Caring. Understanding.

She began to look at it all in a new light.

The discomfort with discussing her dates. The clenched jaw. Following her to different restaurants and theatres, despite her constant security watch…

Come to think of it, he hadn't complained once about desk duty and it usually only took him a couple of hours to think of some other way to irritate her in an attempt to get out of it. But he'd done everything she asked. Filed everything away. He hadn't even asked her when she wanted him back on active duty. It was almost as if he wanted to stay-

Her body tensed at the realization that was slowly dawning on her.

James was jealous.

He was normally temperamental and arrogant and all of the things he'd built a reputation for, but she had always seen it as part of his demeanor. Now, she was beginning to see it as a cry for attention.

Her attention.

That's what this was all about.

It was simply a new method of getting her attention. She didn't doubt that his concern for her was genuine, but there was a time when James would never have let himself show such sentiment, and certainly not to her. Perhaps he was realizing that his displays in the field weren't getting him anywhere. With her turning her sights to the dating world, it was diverting her attention away from him even more.

She sighed.

She was the only one who really understood him, and they both knew it. No one else could ever rein him in for that very reason. They didn't understand how he ticked. She did. He was their best agent, no question, but barring that, she had made more than a reasonable amount of allowances for him over the years. She let him get away with things that any other agent would have been dismissed for.

She recalled one particular occasion where she made the mistake of letting on that she had somewhat of a soft spot for him. It was on the anniversary of his parents deaths. He was letting himself slip in the field, being more careless than usual. She knew something was wrong and she knew she was the only one who could get through to him. They didn't talk about very much that night. In fact most of it was spent in silence, but she tried to talk him down from the ledge, so to speak. He needed to get his head back in the game. It was a brief moment of compassion. She never thought he would run with it the way he did.

She should never have crossed that boundary. She introduced sentiment and he never forgot it. In fact he used it to his advantage on numerous occasions, hence the steady supply of migraine tablets she kept in her desk drawer.

She had played favorites for too long and now James felt shunted.

She rubbed her temples.

They would need to discuss this of course. It couldn't continue.

The trick would be getting James to talk.

He was willing enough to dabble in emotion for her sake, but, as proved on that fateful anniversary, getting James to open up about himself and his own feelings wasn't an easy task.

She sighed again and slipped out of her shoes before standing and making her way to her bedroom.

She'd finally found a lovely man.

Now to deal with her stroppy agent.

* * *

CH. 4

* * *

James spent most of his day on autopilot. Though part of him was itching to get back in the field, the rest of him just wanted to stay there, close to M. Well, staying close to her was lovely, but right now what he really wanted was to stay close so he could keep an eye on this Douglas character.

M had been seeing him more frequently now, periodically asking James for his opinion on a dress or a scarf. Sometimes the choice of restaurant, or what they should see at the theatre.

James broke his vow part of the way and followed them to one of their meeting places one night after M left the office. He saw the two of them together and he couldn't decide if he was more pleased that Olivia was happy, or jealous that she was happy with another man. The way she lit up when he made her laugh… he couldn't help feeling it should have been him. But he swore he wouldn't interfere anymore, and he decided he'd hold up that end of the deal at the very least, so he sank back into the shadows and went home to sulk on his own.

When he arrived for his last day of desk duty, he decided to get on the web and do some digging to find out more about him. Douglas was just as accomplished and handsome as M had described him. Graduated top of his class. Had been a successful lawyer for years. In fact, the firm where he worked even bore his name. He had never been involved in any messy dealings or any sort of scandal. He never married, which James found surprising, but he saw that Douglas had been involved in a relationship about ten years before he met M. Apparently, his then girlfriend, if that word was still applicable to a woman in her fifties, was a specialty florist called Anne who was well known in northern Surrey. She passed away from complications with pneumonia and Douglas never got involved with anyone after that. He worked the same as he always did up until his retirement and he'd been heavily involved in charity work for children ever since then.

From everything James had seen, he seemed like a very compassionate man. There were several photos of him with the children he'd sponsored from various charities. Not the usual smile and pose photos, either. In some, he looked to be helping them learn how to ride horses. In others, he was on his hands and knees, teaching them about gardening. There were even a few of him helping with local animal rescue services. He wasn't just one of those rich blokes who threw money at a cause, snapped a few photos and walked away. He was a man of action. A caring man.

James sighed.

He wanted so desperately to find something wrong with the guy. Something, anything that would prove he wasn't good enough for M. But the more James dug, the more good he uncovered, and he actually found himself not only respecting Douglas, but liking him.

He slammed his fist on his desk.

There was no real competition. Why wouldn't M choose Douglas over him? What was there to consider? He had everything going for him, whereas James had only ever served to give her headaches. If he were in M's position, he'd choose exactly the same way.

He raised his head and stared in the direction of her office, as if his eyes could bore into her through the walls. This man was good for her. James couldn't have asked for better if he'd handpicked Douglas himself. It would be selfish of him to pursue her and ruin what could be the best thing that ever happened to her. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way.

He closed the file on his desk, gathered his things and walked out the door. As he was passing, he told Eve that he was heading home early. She said something in response, but he wasn't listening. All he wanted to do was get home, get drunk, and forget the world, at least for the night.

He stopped off on the way to pick up a couple of things, not least of which was a generous bottle of scotch, and proceeded to his flat, where he chugged as many glasses as he needed to get to sleep.

* * *

M sighed and left her office, relieved at finally making her way through the last of the tedious forms that had been piled on her desk for the past few days.

She flung her coat over her arm and strolled over to James' small office so she could formally relieve him of desk duty and tell him to check in with medical before reporting to her for his next field assignment. She'd sent all this in an email of course, but she was almost certain he didn't bother to look. And even if he did, he would more than likely try to bypass medical all together, so she was always sure to tell him face to face as reinforcement.

Before she could knock on the door, Eve stopped her.

"He's gone, ma'am."

M turned to face her.

"For the day?"

"Yes, ma'am. He left about an hour and a half ago. Seemed in a hurry."

M glanced at the door before turning back to Eve.

"I take it he didn't tell you where he was rushing off to."

Eve shook her head. "No, ma'am. I did ask if he wanted me to inform you of anything, but he was moving so quickly, I don't think he heard me."

M nodded once. "Thank you, Eve." M began to walk away before pausing. "We have informed Jennifer that she's to take your place while you're on holiday, correct?"

Eve nodded. "All up to speed, ma'am."

"Right then. Enjoy yourself. You've earned it. I'll see you in two weeks' time," M smiled.

"Thank you, M. Goodnight."

M was escorted to her car and driven home as usual. She wasn't seeing Douglas tonight, which she was secretly glad of as it had been a grueling day in the office and she was sure she wouldn't be the pleasant company he deserved.

She took the lift, greeting her security detail with a small smile and nod. They informed her that there was a delivery made and that it had already been cleared, but she only halfway heard them. She was staring down the button panel on the elevator, willing it to move faster so she could get into her flat and take off her shoes. She'd spent most of the day walking back and forth between her office, personnel and Q branch, and right now, what she wanted more than anything was to kick off those damned heels and feel her soft, plush carpet massaging her soles.

She exited the lift, nodding again at her security's salute. She told him at the start that it wasn't required, but he had been an air force man before he joined with Six and it was a sort of involuntary habit at this stage, so she just let him do it. Besides, it was out of respect, and she knew that, so she couldn't get too terribly annoyed.

As the lift doors closed behind her, she spotted a vase of roses resting on the floor, just outside the door to her flat. She quickly walked over and unlocked the door, picking the vase up carefully so as not to damage the blooms and took her gift inside, kicking the door shut behind her with her foot.

She placed them on the coffee table and toed her shoes off, looking upon the bouquet with admiration. Most of the blooms were deep red, but there were some pale pink blooms interspersed throughout, along with tiny sprigs of baby's breath. They were some of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. There was nothing attached to the vase, so she searched through the petals as delicately as she could for some sort of note, but she couldn't find anything. Though she supposed she didn't need to.

Only one place they could have come from.

She smiled, biting her lip and debating whether it would be rude to phone so late in the evening.

A girlish giggle burst out of her as she picked up the phone and dialed through to Douglas. She was getting impatient waiting for the call to reroute. She loved her job, but the level of security it required made some of the simplest tasks some of the biggest pains in the arse. If she wanted to call anyone outside of the Six network, her phone was set to reroute through a sort of decoy mobile network so if it was traced for any reason, it would show the dummy number and a location somewhere in Yorkshire.

* * *

 _"Olivia?"_

"Douglas," she smiled, glad he was home. "I didn't disturb you, did I?"

 _"Nonsense. You're welcome to ring any time,"_ she could hear his smile on the other end. _"To what do I owe this pleasure?"_

"I just wanted to thank you for the flowers. They're lovely."

She heard him pause on the other end.

 _"Well, I'm pleased that you've received such a lovely present, but I'm afraid I can't take credit."_

"What?"

 _"I didn't send them."_

"Oh… I see…"

 _"Secret admirer, perhaps?"_

"Don't be silly," she laughed.

 _"It's not unreasonable. You're a fine woman. Perhaps there's another gentleman out there with his eye on you."_

"I highly doubt it. As you know, I'm a difficult person to catch up with," she gently ran the tip of her finger across the petals of one of the roses. "I don't stay still long enough for anyone to admire me."

 _"And yet I do."_

She smiled. "And I'm glad."

He chuckled. _"As am I."_

"Well, I am sorry to disturb you for nothing."

 _"Oh, it was no bother. I enjoy talking to you."_

Olivia nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Are we still on for next week?"

 _"But of course. Does eight still work for you?"_

"Mhm. I'll see you then."

 _"I look forward to it."_

"Goodnight, Douglas."

 _"Goodnight, Olivia. Sleep well."_

* * *

She hung up and sat back slowly on the sofa, suddenly lost in a whirlwind of confusion.

She always met her other suitors on location. None of them knew where she lived, only her phone number. And they were all, quite frankly, flops. She doubted any of them would have gone to the trouble to track her down and send her flowers. Douglas was the only one who had an address for her, and even that was a false flag.

She searched again for a note, but still nothing.

She sat back on the sofa again before her body suddenly tensed.

"No…" she whispered. "Surely not."

She walked into the kitchen and checked her stash of scotch.

None missing.

"He wouldn't," she murmured to herself.

But it had to be. There was no other logical explanation.

Though, to be fair, she wasn't sure this conclusion was any more logical than the others.

But as many times as he'd broken into her home, why not just leave them inside? Why would he leave something that delicate outside the door? Why would he leave a present like that at all?

She looked back at the flowers once more before softly padding back to her room for the night.

As she got changed and ready for bed, her mind was reeling with possible reasons for James' behavior. To talk with her and give advice was one thing, but to leave her flowers… roses, no less… that was another matter entirely.

She tried to approach the situation with a sort of clinical view of everything that had gone on, and the more she thought things over, the more her mind kept cycling back to one glaring conclusion.

She shook her head and pushed it to the back of her mind, convincing herself there was no way that could possibly be right. There had to be another explanation.

She climbed into bed, turning off her bedside lamp and heaved a sigh.

As darkness engulfed the room, she shut her eyes and tried to tell herself she was just jumping to conclusions. Making a big deal out of something perfectly innocent and well meaning. It was silly to believe that James would ever…

Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at the dimly moonlit ceiling.

As insane as it was, it all started to make sense. Following her on dates… getting closer to her outside of the office… and now leaving roses…

What else had she missed, misinterpreted, or flat out ignored? Was she really that clueless? Or was there a part of her that knew all along and she ignored it because she couldn't bring herself to believe it?

 _"You know… in a lot of ways he reminds me of you."_

From some forgotten corner of her mind, her words crept back into the forefront and echoed loudly.

It was true. Douglas did remind her of James in many ways.

But what did it say about her that she was falling in love with someone who conjured memories of another man?

She shook her head and slammed a fist against the mattress.

"Stop it," she said aloud.

First thing's first. She would find a moment to pull James aside and ask him if he sent the flowers. Then, depending upon his answer, she would deal with the rest as it arose.

She sighed, turning onto her side and trying her best to calm her racing thoughts enough to sleep.

If she was right about James, well…

things just got a lot more complicated.

* * *

CH. 5

* * *

M went into work the next morning with her stomach in knots.

She hadn't gotten much sleep that night as her mind was trying desperately to come up with a way to start a conversation with James and somehow broach the subject of the mysterious roses, but no matter how hard she thought about it, there didn't seem to be any gentile way of mentioning it. Or rather, there was no way to mention it without there being an underlying tone of implication.

And if her theory proved to be true, it could mean the ruin of the most wonderful relationship she'd ever had.

Suppose James' answer confirmed her suspicions. What then? If she decided to throw caution to the wind and give it a go, what would become of her relationship with Douglas? He was a wonderful man and she didn't want to lose him, but she knew how much he cared for her and she knew how sadly his last relationship had ended. She didn't know if he could handle reverting to a platonic relationship whilst she tried her hand with another man. And she didn't feel it was fair of her to ask him to wait around until she made up her mind.

Her heart sank a little at the thought. But she had to put this to the test. She had to know for certain. If she was only in love with Douglas for the man he reminded her of, it wouldn't be fair of her to continue seeing him. Douglas deserved to be a one and only, not a second best or close enough.

She put her head in her hands.

This was supposed to be the start of a wonderful new chapter of her life.

Instead, it was turning out to be a massive ball of confusion. And no matter which decision she made, someone would be hurt.

"M?... M, are you alright?"

Her head snapped up to see James standing in the doorway. She hadn't even noticed him knocking. She was so into her own head, she'd been staring at the same form on her desk for a solid five minutes without realizing it.

"You wanted to see me?"

She sat up straighter in her chair. "Yes. Please, sit. Oh, and close the door behind you."

James frowned, but shut the door as instructed. He saw her hand slide down to activate the soundproofing.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked as he made his way over to one of the chairs in front of her desk. "I've already done the papers for medical if-"

"No, no. This isn't about medical. Though, I appreciate you following orders this time," she gave a hollow laugh. She could see he wasn't relaxing into the chair. He could tell she was nervous. "This is a personal matter."

"Douglas?"

She paused. "Yes and no," she sighed and leaned forward on her elbows. "There's really no easy way to have this conversation… I suppose the best way would be to just come right out with it."

He really began to worry now. "M, what's wrong?"

She shut her eyes briefly before opening them and fixing her gaze on the carpet near her feet.

"I'm going to ask you a question and I need the truth from you."

He nodded once, suddenly terrified of whatever was coming next.

"Last night… I came home to vase of roses outside my door. I assumed Douglas had sent them, but when I called to thank him, he told me he didn't know anything about them," she took a deep breath. "You're the only other person who knows where I live and is close enough to me to make such a gesture."

She looked him in the eyes now.

"I need to know if you sent them. And if the answer is yes, I need to know why."

He swallowed hard.

She knew.

"Yes. I sent them. I figured you would just take them and assume they were from Douglas." He made sure his gaze was fixed on her to prove that he wasn't lying.

"And what did you think would happen when I went to thank him for flowers he never sent?"

"I…" his eyes flicked down to his lap. "I hadn't thought that far ahead. I had downed a few glasses by then…"

She pursed her lips. "Alright, so we've established you don't do your best critical thinking with a bottle in your hand. That still doesn't tell me why you did it."

He shifted in his seat ever so slightly. "It was a sort of goodbye present."

She tensed. "How do you mean?"

"I saw how happy you were… how happy the two of you were together. I knew my meddling would only interfere with that and I didn't want to ruin it for you so it was a sort of send-off gift. One last present before I stepped aside… let you get on with it."

A shiver ran down her spine.

"You're still talking in circles, James. You could have talked to me, left a phone message, a note… there were plenty of ways you could have let me know all this. You chose to send me roses. Why?"

Before he could respond, she held a hand up and stopped him.

"Before you answer, I need you to consider the fact that what you say next may change the very nature of the friendship we've built." She slowly lowered her hand to rest on the desk in front of him. "I need the truth."

He glanced up at her before looking back down at his lap.

There was no point in hiding it anymore. The secret was out, she was only waiting for him to say the words. And he could never lie about something this big. Not to her.

His only choice was to confess, but he knew he couldn't bear to look at her when he did.

Eyes still firmly fixed on his lap, he paused and took a breath before speaking.

"Because I cared for you… do care for you… beyond friendship. And I thought about saying something… plenty of times. But I knew that if we started anything, it would be difficult to say the least. And I didn't want to put you through anymore grief than I'd already caused you. And then I saw the two of you together and I heard the way you talked about him… I just wanted you to be happy. And I'd never seen you as happy as you were… are with him." She saw that he'd clenched his fists on his knees. "I needed to say goodbye properly. I needed to step aside and let you be happy."

She nodded, though she knew he wasn't paying attention.

"I see…" she took a breath. "And did you ever consider that perhaps I didn't want you to step aside?"

His eyes slowly lifted to her face.

"You seem to have made this monumental decision that I'm better off without you, but I think I should have at least a marginal say in the matter."

James sat stunned, not knowing what to say.

"When I realized that the roses weren't from Douglas… I knew only one other person would have sent them. And I didn't want to be so foolish as to believe that you would ever feel anything more than friendship for me. I just couldn't see it being true. And now that it's all out in the open… well, to be honest, I'm relieved. I know the truth now."

"So… what are you saying?"

She sighed. "I don't know what I'm saying! That's the problem!"

She walked back around to her chair and sat down in a huff.

She looked into his eyes again, her own eyes threatening to spill with tears.

"I don't know what to do, James. I honestly don't know what to do. I thought about what I would say… how I would feel if I was right about you. And as mad as the whole idea was, there was a part of me that hoped you would say yes. And then I thought about my relationship with Douglas. And you're right, I do care for him. A great deal. He's a wonderful man and he does make me very happy. But lately, it's been nagging at me more and more… the thought that I only care so deeply for him because he reminds me so much of you."

She took a shaky breath.

"The truth is I have feelings for both of you. And god help me, I'm not sure I know what to make of them… on either side. It seems that no matter what I choose to do, someone is going to walk away hurt. And as much as I wish that wasn't the case, I know I can't have it both ways."

James sighed softly. "I'm sorry, M. This is what I was trying to avoid. Looks like all I did was make it worse."

She waved him off. "No. It isn't your fault. It isn't anybody's fault. This isn't something you can just ignore and hope it'll all go away." She shook her head. "No. It would have come to light eventually. I suppose it's better that I discovered it sooner rather than later."

James nodded. "I guess that's true."

"Do you think you could give me a moment?" she asked. "I think I need to give Douglas a call."

"Of course," James stood slowly, straightening his jacket as he rose. "You take all the time you need."

M nodded, her fingertips sliding over to glide across the receiver.

He could see her hands shaking. He knew this was difficult for her. He couldn't imagine being in the position she was in, and it broke his heart to know this was causing her so much strife.

"M?" he paused. "Olivia," he said softly.

She looked up at him, her eyes beginning to redden.

"Whatever you decide to do, I'll be happy for you," he gave her a small smile. "Promise."

She returned his smile and nodded, watching closely as he walked out of her office doors and back to his own office.

She took a steadying breath and picked up the phone to ring Douglas. She dialed as quickly as she could, fearing that if she went any slower, she'd lose her nerve.

* * *

 _"Olivia?"_

"Hello, Douglas."

 _"What's the matter?"_

"It's nothing, really," she said instinctively. It was a lie of course. This was one hell of a something.

 _"I can hear it in your voice, love. Something's wrong."_ She sniffled, not caring if he heard it. _"It's alright. Talk to me."_

"I'm really sorry to have to do this…" she buried her face in her free hand. "Dear god, I don't want to do this…" she mumbled.

 _"What is it?"_

"I need to talk to you. In person, I mean. Can you meet me in our usual place at the park?"

 _"Yes. Yes, of course. Erm… when?"_

"Half an hour?"

 _"Alright,"_ he paused. _"I'll see you there."_

"Thank you."

* * *

She hung up the phone, her hands trembling even more now. She quickly reactivated the soundproofing in her office just seconds before she burst into tears.

* * *

CH. 6

* * *

After she'd cried for what she considered more than a reasonable amount of time, she made her way into her private restroom and tried to touch up her makeup as best she could. She could see her eyes were still puffy through the makeup, but she figured if she kept her gaze low on her way out, no one would notice too much.

She didn't trust her voice not to crack just yet, so she sent an email to Jennifer relaying her early departure and made her way out of the office as quickly as she could. If her bodyguard and driver noticed anything odd about her, they didn't call attention to it, which she was glad of.

She had the driver take her near to her destination, as was their usual arrangement when she was meeting a civilian, and she walked the last block over, her bodyguard trailing at a fairly close but unnoticeable distance.

She was glad of the walk now more than ever, as the air was brisk and she hoped it would help the skin around her eyes contract the rest of the way. She knew Douglas probably already suspected it, but this would be difficult enough without looking like she'd been crying.

She found Douglas waiting for her on their usual bench.

She froze for a moment, just standing in the grass a few metres behind him.

With everything in her, she wanted to turn and run, but she knew she had to do this.

Quietly, she made her way around and sat down beside him.

He smiled his usual warm smile when he saw her and kissed her cheek as he always did when there were other people around. She thought it was lovely, the fact that he didn't want to scandalize her in public. If only he knew about some of the things she had to do as a fresh agent…

"Now, what's all this?" He took her hand, stroking along the back of her fingertips with his thumb. "What's got you so upset?"

"Douglas…" she began shakily. "You know how much I care for you and you know how wonderful I think you are…"

"Yes," he replied simply.

"I still care for you… very much. But something has come up," she said. "Something that could affect our relationship."

His thumb stopped. "There's someone else," he said softly.

She nodded slowly, staring at their joined hands. "I didn't intend for it to happen."

He kissed her temple. "I know, love."

She looked up at him.

"You… you don't sound angry," she whispered. "Why aren't you angry?"

He smiled. "Because sometimes you fall in love with someone you hadn't expected to. It happens." He patted her hand. "And I understand."

She looked back down at the grass, not knowing what to say.

He let her have a few moments of silence before picking the conversation up again.

"It's that James man you kept mentioning isn't it?"

Olivia nodded silently. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"No it isn't," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Nothing's alright anymore. It's all gone wrong. I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I had what I wanted. And then he decided to adopt emotions all of a sudden and…" she sighed again. "I don't know what I feel anymore."

Douglas chuckled. "I don't think anyone necessarily decides to fall in love, pet. It happens. Whether you like it or not."

"Well, I don't like this. Not at all. You're a good man. You're wonderful. You don't deserve to be a substitute or second best. I just wish I had a better handle on all this. In the past hour, everything I thought I knew has gone up in smoke. I don't know what to think or feel… I'm not sure of anything anymore. And I want to be. I want to be sure."

He put an arm around her and took a deep breath.

"Let me guess," Douglas began. "He told you he was in love with you and as much as you wanted to be surprised, you weren't really. But it was a bit of a shock when you realized that you have feelings for him too. You weren't looking for it. It was just there. It had been all along. And you tried to ignore it. Tried to tell yourself that you were making something out of nothing. But you can't just bury feelings like that. It doesn't work that way, no matter how much we want it to. They always come to the surface. When you're not looking for it. When you least expect it. When it's damned inconvenient," he chuckled. "It's there."

She looked up at him, her eyes no longer threatening to flood her cheeks for the second time that day.

"It was a similar case with my Anne," he explained. "We started out as good friends. We thought that's all we were. Then one day… I don't know. We both realized there was something more. Something we'd both been trying to ignore at the risk of ruining what we had. The day we decided to stop ignoring it… the moment we decided to listen to what our hearts were trying to tell us…" he smiled. "That's when the real adventure began."

Olivia smiled. "You must miss her."

He nodded. "I do." He took a moment to choose his next words. "In fact… I'm glad you invited me here. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about as well."

She frowned. "What is it?"

"Well… there's sort of someone else for me, as well," he looked into her eyes. "Anne."

"Anne?"

"The truth is, I know exactly what you're going through because I think I've been going through the same thing."

"I… I don't understand."

He smiled. "Our evenings together were lovely. I wouldn't trade a single one of them for anything in the world. But I remember a certain employee of yours making his way into the conversation quite often."

Olivia blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"It's alright," he chuckled. "If you remember, I blathered on about Anne just as much. I think I told you just as many stories about her as you told me about James." He rubbed her back. "You told me I reminded you of him. Well, in a lot of ways, you remind me of Anne. You're sweet, intelligent, razor sharp wit…" he chuckled. She smiled, blushing gently at his words. "And that smile. Dear god, that smile could light the whole of London."

"Stop it," she swatted his arm.

"And you both have a mean right hook!" He laughed harder now. "I see so much of her in you. The same way you see James when you're with me." He stroked her cheek. "I understand, Olivia. I understand, and it's all alright."

"It looks like we both needed this talk, then, didn't we?"

He nodded. "It's not to say we didn't enjoy each other. And it's not to say we don't care for each other deeply. I don't regret a single moment spent with you."

"Neither do I," she smiled. "But… we've both been chasing ghosts, haven't we?"

Douglas nodded. "The only difference is, you're chasing the ghost of a man who's still living." He took her hands in his. "Now, my Anne is gone. I won't have any more days with her and I've learned to accept that. But you… James is still out there. He's there and he's waiting."

"I can't-"

"Yeah. I know that's what you think. And I also know you're wrong," he smiled at her shocked expression. "You can and you will. You've got to. Let's face it, love. None of us are getting any younger. Time is ticking away and before you know it, that 'right time' you were looking for is years behind you."

Olivia looked down at their hands again, her ears and her heart absorbing his words.

"I spent years after Anne died wondering 'what if?'…" he mused. "What if I'd told her sooner? What if I'd found the courage and asked her to marry me? What if we'd had more time together?... What if I never smile again?" He squeezed her hands gently. "Trust me. It's no way to live. It all goes so quickly, Olivia. Use the time you're given and make it count."

She nodded. "I don't want to lose you…" she said softly.

"Oh, now. You won't be rid of me that easily," he smiled. "Besides, if memory serves, you lost the last bet, so you still owe me a drink. I'm not going anywhere until that debt is paid."

She snorted, her shoulders shaking silently before bursting into her first proper bout of laughter in what felt like ages. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you, Douglas," she smiled, stroking his cheek. "For everything."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss her lips.

"You broke your own rule," Olivia smirked.

"Ah, well. What's a bit of scandal between friends?" he smiled and hugged her to him again. "Now, you go on. Don't keep the poor man waiting until he's our age."

Olivia stood, looking down at him with her infamous arched brow. "Your age, you mean."

"Of course," Douglas chuckled. "And you tell him if he gives you any problems, he'll have to deal with me."

She laughed. "I'll make sure he knows."

He stood and kissed her brow one last time. "Until next time, Olivia."

"Until next time," she smiled.

She waved goodbye, and they both agreed to keep their date for drinks the following week, Douglas insisting he be kept abreast of how Olivia was being treated by her new suitor.

Douglas sat back down on the bench, deciding he may as well watch the sunset as long as he had the view, and Olivia made her way around the corner, where her driver waited patiently for her to return.

Her bodyguard met her at the curb and dutifully opened the door for her.

"Home, ma'am?"

"Not just yet. I've one more stop to make."

Her driver nodded and took her to the requested address.

* * *

She made her way up to the top floor of the building as quickly as she could manage, though she had a mind to put a turbo setting on the lifts.

When the doors finally opened, she stepped out, took a moment to collect herself, and calmly knocked on the door.

James answered in his pyjamas, clearly not expecting anyone to come calling for him.

"Olivia… what-"

"You decided Douglas and I were better off together…" she smiled. "We both disagreed."

"Seriously…" he stared at her, his heart beginning to beat faster. "What happened with-"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll run into each other again eventually." She stepped closer. "But I've taken the time I needed. And I realized that I don't have very much time to waste. So… let's stop wasting it."

He tried and failed to hide the grin on his face.

"You're sure about this?"

"If I wasn't, do you think I would have come?" she smiled. "Now, we'll still have to be realistic about this, of course. We can't go flaunting our relationship for all and sundry."

"Of course."

"And I imagine both of us will have some adjusting to do."

"Naturally."

"But I'm willing to try if you are."

He smiled, not bothering with a vocal response as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his heart racing in his chest.

She pushed him away gently. "Before I go in, let's get something clear. This doesn't grant you any special privileges at work…"

"Aside from the usual."

"James," she pursed her lips.

He giggled. "Sorry. I know. I wouldn't have expected it."

"No matter what does or does not happen this evening, we will both report to work on time tomorrow morning."

He nodded. "Ma'am."

She smiled. "Good." She checked her watch. "Now…"

She slid past him and made her way into his flat. James stood in the doorway and watched her make her way into his kitchen, checking the fridge and his cabinets.

"Uh… Olivia?"

"It's around dinner time for me. How about you?"

She opened a few more cabinet doors before coming to stand before a sparsely supplied pantry, looking back at him over his shoulder.

"I take it you were planning to order in?"

"Well… yeah."

She rolled her eyes, plucking down a box of pasta and whatever odd spices she could find from the few he had in his personal stock.

"I'll cook. You're washing up."

He nodded once, the smile spreading across his face anew. "Ma'am."

Olivia got to work, whizzing around the kitchen as though she'd lived there all her life.

James shook his head, grinning, and closed the door behind himself.

He decided to take her advice on not wasting time, and made his way into the kitchen to see what odds and ends he could help with. She had seemingly already made a mental catalogue of what he had lying about and she walked him through the steps, both of them laughing lightheartedly as he displayed his complete lack of culinary skill.

After only a few minutes they had a sort of choreography going, moving around each other as if they'd been living together for years.

Two halves of a whole.

Olivia smiled as she stole a glance at James across the worktop.

She would have loved to believe that she could go on feeling this way forever, but of course there was no way she could predict what lay ahead. Douglas was right. She could only take stock of the time she was given in the moment she was given it.

In this moment, she was happy and in love.

In this moment, she was free.

In this moment, it was finally her and James' time.

And she intended to make every second count.


End file.
